


What We've Got

by a_quick_drink



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Fluff, M/M, post-ME3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Normandy finally returns to Earth, but the road to recovery is a slow one for a comatose Shepard. Waiting for him to wake is no easy task for Kaidan, who uses the time to reflect on their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"We found him; he's alive."_

A chilly breeze whipped to life, nipping at the Major's bare skin as he hurried from the Normandy to the waiting taxi. Stuffing his hands as deeply into his pockets as possible, he locked his arms against his sides for some modicum of warmth. As loathe as he was to wear his dress blues, the long sleeves would've been much appreciated. At the very least, he wished he would've thought to borrow Shepard's leather jacket or hoodie, even if both were a bit snug in the shoulders for his frame.

He was never so glad to reach the waiting vehicle and get out of the seasonably cold London air. But mostly he was eager to getting that much closer to being reunited with Shepard. The details on their commander's condition had been few, but the only detail that really mattered was that he had survived.

Some twenty minutes later the taxi finally pulled up in front of the hospital. Sitting on the outskirts of the city, it was a miracle the building had managed to withstand the majority of attacks given the sad state of the rest of the city. The top floor or two had been sheared off and blackened by fire, but those below appeared relatively sound and had been quickly repaired to take in as many incoming wounded as possible.

Kaidan hurried inside, noting the dimly lit hallways; electricity was still at a premium, reserved for those who needed it most. In a hospital, of all places, the effect was kind of spooky. He shook off the silly thought and continued to the front desk at the end of the hall.

The head nurse, already alerted to his scheduled arrival, met him halfway and quickly introduced herself. An older woman, she was short and wore her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun, her no-nonsense attitude plain as day. She actually reminded him a lot of his mom and, like her, he was betting this nurse would have absolutely no problem grabbing a grown man by the collar and putting him in line if need be.

She led him down the hallway to the left and up a stairwell, barely pausing for breath as she went through the complete list of problems and procedures Shepard had been through since his admittance. The medical jargon completely flew over Kaidan's head and he just nodded politely in response. What he took away from the dizzying conversation amounted to 'broken this, shattered that, burned from here to there, surgery, more surgery, and medically induced coma'. At least there was no mention of severe head trauma.

The nurse stopped in front of a door. "Any questions?" she asked.

"Uh, no, that was very... informative."

"Alright then." She scrolled through her datapad for a moment. "Visiting hours are over at 9 o'clock-no exceptions." She fixed him with a stare at the last part; she meant every word.

Kaidan straightened his back and squared his shoulders, years of military protocol proving useful in some of the least likely situations. "Yes, ma'am."

The older woman narrowed her eyes at him for a moment longer, judging the sincerity of his response. Apparently satisfied, she gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and walked away, leaving him alone in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, Kaidan finally let himself into the room.

He hadn't really known what to expect. Sure, he'd seen Shepard injured numerous times; the man was stupidly fearless in combat, injuries happened-a lot. More than once he had joked with Vega that "Target" might be a more appropriate nickname for their commander, who had no problem taking the brunt of damage if it meant protecting his squad from it or his laser-like focus on a particular enemy he was hell-bent on taking down immediately, regardless of what that took to accomplish. But this... this was so very different.

It was hard to believe the man lying before him was the same man he knew and loved. Shepard's once solid figure already appeared to be losing some of its tone, nourishment coming only in the form of an intravenous liquid. Nearly every inch of his skin was discolored from bruising, some areas so badly so that Kaidan couldn't figure out where one bruise ended and another began. With the sickening colors already starting to fade, he couldn't even imagine how badly they had looked to begin with. A few bandages were taped here and there, covering surface wounds and surgical incisions still on the mend. The skin of his rugged face was broken apart like a mud flat in the desert, the narrow jagged spaces giving off an eerie orange glow from underneath; something he'd really never seen, especially not to this degree. And that was only from the waist up.

He pulled a chair up to the bedside and sat down, finally releasing a shaky breath after the dull ache in his chest reminded him he'd been holding his breath in shock. Unsure of what to say or do, he gently took the other man's hand in his own, turning it slightly to press kisses to Shepard's palm and wrist.

"I'm here, John," he murmured. It felt somewhat awkward, as if he were talking to himself, but that supposedly wasn't the case. The nurse had explained that in this type of coma, Shepard's senses were functioning, but his body was unable to react. Having some kind of company-something to look forward to, to live for-was probably one of the best medicines he could have right now. For the time being, it was the only connection the two had and he wanted his partner to know exactly where he was. But he also needed the connection; the soft, steady pulse thumping beneath his fingertips, a reminder that better things would hopefully follow.

The monitors began to liven up, their soft chirps suddenly more frequent; apparently the nurse was right.

He began to rub John's palm with his thumb. "I wish I could've been here sooner, but things got kind of crazy after you went and saved the galaxy." There was no response, but Kaidan pressed on, telling John everything he could remember. The crash, mysteriously losing EDI, repairs-everything. Especially how lost he'd been without John, how he refused to believe the other man had died. It still sounded crazy, but deep down he had felt there was hope and it was a feeling he had clung to for dear life. In those dark days immediately after the war, it was one of the few, if only, things that had kept him going.

A couple of hours later their friends began to trickle in, one by one, as they finished up with their duties elsewhere. It had been agreed that Kaidan should be the first one to see Shepard and given some time alone with him. In the meantime, they had kept themselves busy, eagerly waiting for the chance to visit their commander-their friend. The small room was now crowded with friends, laughter and tears and hugs all around. It really could've passed for a party albeit a strange one celebrating a man who couldn't participate.  _But, oh, if he could._  Kaidan smiled to himself.

The remaining hours flew by and before everyone knew it, visiting hours were drawing to a close. Everyone said their goodbyes to Shepard for the night, leaving Kaidan alone to say his own.

He sat back down and held John's hand once more. "I want to stay longer, but I don't want to give that nurse the satisfaction dragging me out of here," he chuckled. "Apparently not even the boyfriend of the galaxy's savior gets a break."

Kaidan stood up and leaned over to lightly kiss the man's temple. "I love you, John. I'll be here as soon as I can tomorrow-promise." He reluctantly let go of John's hand and started towards the door, pausing for one last glimpse of the peaceful figure in the bed before finally leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next couple of weeks, Kaidan spent his free evening hours in the hospital. He chatted with John as if they were having an actual conversation, keeping him abreast of the current goings-on as well as his own day-to-day workload that kept him from visiting any other time. He was curious what John would remember-if anything-after waking. For now, it was just about keeping their commander involved and reminding him he had something-and someone-worth coming back to.

Just as he was saying the goodbyes he now knew by heart, the door swished open and one of the doctors he'd seen only in passing walked in.

"Major, it's an honor to meet you. Dr. Robertson; Commander Shepard has been in my care since his arrival."

"How has he been doing?"

The doctor moved to Shepard's bedside and tapped the monitor to the left of the bed. "It was touch and go that first week-weren't even sure he'd make it-but he stabilized. He seems to have shown even more improvement since you arrived." He studied the results, occasionally looking between the monitor and the datapad in his other hand. "Test results have been consistently good and the worst of the damage is healing faster than we anticipated."

"I'm glad to hear it, but... why are you telling me this?"

"I just spoke to Admiral Hackett an hour ago about bringing Shepard out of his coma tonight. I suggested someone close to the Commander might want to be here. Would help ease any stress or confusion that may occur."

The faint clink of metal against metal rang out in the quiet room as the older man rummaged around in one of his coat pockets. In his open palm lay two pairs of dog tags entwined with one another: one pair standard issue with only the Alliance logo and the usual information etched on the surfaces, another similar pair distinguished by the stamped and colored N7 logo. "Seemed pretty obvious who that should be."

The back of Kaidan's neck burned as he took the offered tags and tucked them away. As they had dressed the morning of the final assault, John had insisted they swap tags-not as a memento, but as a loan and he expected them returned. They had needed all the hope they could get and neither had been willing to admit the tags were more likely to end up as the former. What they hadn't planned on was somebody finding those extra tags should something happen to one or both of them.

Turning back to the monitor, the doctor tapped at the screen a few more times. "And, done." The monitor beeped in confirmation. "He should be awake by morning, but it may only be a short time. A nurse will be monitoring his vitals remotely the entire time." He motioned to the wall behind them. "Extra blankets in the closet and coffee machine's two doors down, on the right."

"T-thank you."

The doctor smiled and placed a hand on the major's shoulder, giving it a squeeze before leaving the room.

By midnight Kaidan was at a loss for what to say or do.

Taking another sip of coffee, he cringed as soon as the vile bitter liquid touched his tongue. The stuff tasted like motor oil-somehow worse than even the Normandy's poor excuse for coffee-and adding water in an attempt to tone it down had done nothing to improve it. Now it just tasted like watered down motor oil.

He set the cup aside and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. It wasn't John's arms, but it was definitely better than what he had started with. Looking across the younger man's stilled body, he couldn't help but snort at the sight of tiny buds of snow dancing around on the other side of the large picture window. John was going to hate having to spend the winter in London.

Born and raised steps from where the Everglades used to be, their stalwart commander had no constitution for cold weather and the only thing time in the military had changed was that he didn't complain about it-much. Griping about missions on insufferably frigid planets was something they had bonded over from the start and not even rebuilding the man had changed that trait of his. In the Normandy's usual coldish air John couldn't sleep without some kind of covering, and on the chillier nights had the uncanny ability to home in on his lover's warmth while sleeping.

Fingers moved against his hand. Or did they? Was John waking from his drug-induced sleep or was it just an involuntary twitch? Kaidan looked hopefully at the man's face; nothing. His heart couldn't help but sink just a little.

As far as he knew, everything indicated Shepard would wake and likely recover quite well. There was always a tiny chance that things could go wrong, but he didn't want to-couldn't-allow himself to think about those scenarios right now. But there was still that anticipation of him simply waking; to see the recognition in those brilliant blue eyes once more, to hear his voice, see that cute little lop-sided smile.

_Did John worry about me like this?_

Things had been crazy from the start, but after he had been taken out of the fight prematurely, the situation with the galaxy had only grown more dire. John had been so busy during that time, it was entirely possible he had little time or desire to care about such things. With all the tension between them, he wasn't even sure whether they could have been considered friends at that point.

He bit his lip to stem the hot tears threatening to fall.

If only he could take back every stupid thing he had said and done. When it came to John, it seemed like all he could do was let the man down when he was needed most. They had made up months ago, but that was before that fateful run to the conduit. If only he had been paying more attention, ran faster, did something-anything-different, maybe John wouldn't be in such a state now. They could've gone to the Citadel together; whatever had caused all of this damage, maybe he could've returned the favor for once and protected John from it. Once again he had let down the one person that meant the most to him.

He hung his head and lifted John's hand to his lips, silently asking forgiveness once more. John's waking would be yet another chance-one he probably didn't deserve-to really make things right, no matter what that took.

Weakened fingers curled around his own, as if they were trying to squeeze his hand. _That can't be just a twitch._ Lips parted slightly, appearing to form soundless words. Eyebrows wrinkled, in frustration perhaps?

"Take it easy, John," he chuckled. "There's no rush; I'm not going anywhere." Leave it to Shepard to be an overachiever at everything, including trying to cut his wake time from the coma in half. It was likely that same impatient, stubborn attitude that had kept him alive in the first place.

After hours of sitting in the same position with little other movement, Kaidan's body began to protest its treatment. Shucking the blanket around his shoulders, he stood up and reached over his head, leaning back until he heard the satisfying pop of vertebrae sliding back into place. He briefly considered going to get some hot coffee, but the thought of trying to choke that stuff down again made his stomach churn; he went to the window a few feet away instead.

Between work and his enthusiasm to see John, he'd been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't really had any time to stop and truly pay attention to what was happening in the world around himself. The streets now were completely dark save for the illumination provided by the full moon overhead. Fires still burned, vibrant orange dots against the distant blackness. Piles of debris cluttered the broken streets, constantly being combed through for the bodies of loved ones and any precious supplies still left within.

Across the street, movement near a small collapsed building caught his eye. Two figures-a woman and a child-picked up the pieces they could lift and tossed them aside. At this time of night, in the cold and dangerous darkness of the ruined city, what could possibly be so important to find? He looked back to John's peaceful figure, a guilty and painful pang of realization hitting him. Not  _what_ , but more likely,  _who_?

And maybe it was similar heart wrenching realities that were subconsciously blocking his thoughts. It was the start of a second month since the end of the war and there still hadn't been any word on either of his parents. He constantly reminded himself communication networks were still slow or completely down, but there were still the what ifs.

What if they really were gone? Outside of John, they were all he really had left. Even if they had survived the war, his extended family had never been close, both in terms of family bonding and proximity to one another. If only one of his parents was lost, he could deal with it despite how strange it would feel. But what if both were lost? In the constant changes and movement in his life, theirs was a place he knew he could always go back to no matter what. Just the thought of losing that anchor set his mind adrift in an empty sea.

He stretched once more and bent over to lean on the windowsill.

No, he couldn't think like that. John was going to wake up soon, and after he recovered, they could finally work on having a real relationship without the constant threat of war or Reapers. He wanted John to meet his parents, to know once again what it felt like to be part of a family. Dad would probably pretend to be unimpressed by some cocky kid saving the galaxy, but there would be a deep undercurrent of respect between the two. A never-ending pissing contest of comparing kills and accomplishments would likely ensue; somehow John would never win. Mom would spoil him like a second son, while embarrassing the hell out of her first one. And if they weren't already married by that point, she'd make sure it happened soon enough.

But that was wishful thinking.

Love had always been just a "maybe" for John. He had no experience with romantic love and wasn't ready for it. What they had needed was time, something they weren't allowed. But now that they would have the time, it was entirely possible John's priorities could change with the prospect of having his entire life ahead of him once more. That everything between them could easily be written off as having been done in the heat of the moment while facing certain death. Love may no longer be on the table for them.

Letting his eyes fall shut, Kaidan pressed his forehead to the glass and let out a shuddery breath. It hurt like hell to think about, but he would be whatever John needed him to be, whether that be friend or lover.

"Kai...?

The growing bubble of pessimism popped the moment Kaidan heard the affectionate nickname. He spun around from the window so quickly that he nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to the side of the bed.

Confused blue eyes slowly turned to him. "W-where am I?" John's voice was soft and unsure, a far cry from its usual confidence.

"You're in a hospital; in London."

"What? But the Reapers-" Even in his weakened state, John managed to push himself forward into an upright position, trying to get to the side of the bed to escape. Every movement elicited soft groans and sharp hisses as his body protested, but he was determined. There was no way in hell he was going to take a break for anything so long as the Reapers were still alive. Noticing the IV tethering him to the bed, he moved to pull it out, but was quickly intercepted by a gentle grip around his wrist.

"It's OK, John, they're gone," Kaidan soothed. "Whatever you did up there, they're gone."

Blue eyes studied brown for a few moments, while the younger man's mind processed what he was being told. His forehead wrinkled in thought. "But... I was on the Citadel. How'd I get here?"

"Hackett sent a team to find you. They brought you back here, patched you up, and you've been in an induced coma for the past month."

"A month?" John's unpracticed voice nearly cracked in disbelief.

Kaidan squeezed his hand. "There was a lot of damage; your body needed to focus on healing."

John seemed to relax and settled back against the bed while his mind shuffled all the pieces around in his mind, trying to put the mental puzzle together. There were so many images floating around that he found it difficult to sort the dreams from reality. To complicate the task, so many of those images seemed completely surreal despite an inkling that told him otherwise. The pieces-or at least the important ones-finally came together and he nodded hesitantly.

Grunting through the aches and weakness once more, John slowly moved to the opposite side of the narrow bed and patted the empty space between them. Kaidan carefully sat down, still feeling hesitant over where they stood now given the new circumstances. John searched his eyes for a moment before resting his hand on the back of Kaidan's neck, slowly pulling him down into a gentle kiss.

In that instant the emotions finally hit the older man like a ton of bricks. This moment felt too good to be anything more than a dream he'd soon wake from, bed as empty as it had been for weeks.

But it was real!

John was awake and well, all things considered. And it was John's soft, warm lips-the same as they'd felt weeks ago-pressed against his own once more, a feeling he thought he'd no longer experience outside of a dream. Kaidan's stomach fluttered in joy.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, voice wavering.

John kissed him once more and pulled away, touching his partner's cheek. "You're crying," he said worriedly.

"So are you," Kaidan smiled, wiping the tears away with the heel of his hand.

A little lop-sided grin curled the corners of John's lips as he wiped off his own cheeks. But the smile was merely a flicker, quickly fading as his face grew serious and confused once more. He patted at his bare chest, growing visibly worried. "Oh no-our tags-I lost them!"

Touched by his partner's concern over something that was arguably inconsequential, Kaidan couldn't help but chuckle. "No you didn't," he said, pulling the metal tags from his pocket and placing them around the man's neck.

John smiled in relief and looked down at the tags, running his thumb over the incised text. He carefully arranged them so the plainer pair was against his skin-and that much closer to his heart.

Kaidan just smiled at the thoughtful little gesture. John always did have a peculiar eye for certain details over others. He leaned in for another kiss, unable to get his fill after missing out on so many. "You probably should get some rest," he breathed, touching their foreheads together.

He was one to talk.

Both during and after the war, stress and depression had taken a serious toll on both his body and mind. Most of the hours he should've been sleeping had been spent awake, either simply tossing and turning all night or wandering the quiet spaces of the ship like a ghost. With John gone, continuing to sleep in the bed they'd once shared had made him wonder if it did more harm than good, all the familiar scents and memories so much more vivid in that room. He'd known the lack of sleep was bad for the migraines-which laid him up more often than not-but he just couldn't help it. If he hadn't been worrying about one thing, he found another. But tonight, even with having to sleep on that uncomfortable looking couch at the foot of the bed, he had a feeling things would be much different.

"I'm fine," John yawned. "Got plenty of sleep." He blinked slowly, eyelids already growing heavy.

"Uh huh, I see that." He brushed his lips against John's once more. "I'll see you in the morning and we can talk more then, OK?" He stood up and went to the couch, toeing his boots off before settling down onto the dense cushions.

"Hey, Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you." John flashed him a goofy little grin.

Kaidan smiled back before laying down. "Love you, too, John."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to see where they go from here? Check out [Starships](http://archiveofourown.org/works/563331)!


End file.
